


Yavanna's Bounty

by bilbobagginshield



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward af, Gandalf is an ass, Nonbinary Character, Online Dating, Other, but he had good intentions, dating profile shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilbobagginshield/pseuds/bilbobagginshield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>410-709-6657	2:58<br/>Hey, it’s Thorin.</p><p>Bilbo stared down at the phone in his hand, nose wrinkling in confusion. Who the hell was Thorin? </p><p>In other words, Gandalf is a meddling ass and Bilbo would be inclined to kill him if his terrible ideas didn't tend to have such good outcomes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yavanna's Bounty

**410-709-6657     2:58**

**Hey, it’s Thorin.**

 

Bilbo stared down at the phone in his hand, nose wrinkling in confusion. Who the hell was Thorin? Apparently someone local, judging by the area code, but no one he knew.

…Well, probably not someone he knew. He couldn’t remember the last time he went out and got tipsy enough to give a stranger his number. He shook his head. No, he likely would have remembered that. This was probably just a case of a wrong number.

He was getting ready to type just that when a touch to his elbow startled him into fumbling his phone, nearly dropping it. A deep laugh sounded from over his shoulder.

“Gandalf! Don’t scare me like that!” Bilbo pressed the hand holding his phone to his chest, mostly a show to maybe prod his old friend into feeling some guilt. Gandalf bowed his head and would have looked properly shamed, if not for the twinkle in his eye.

“To be fair, Bilbo, we were to meet here at 3pm, and it is indeed 3pm. You should have been expecting me. Undoubtedly, you would have seen me approach, did you not have your nose buried in your phone.”

Bilbo huffed. “Yes, well. Next time maybe shout a bit first instead of manhandling me. You’ll send me to an early grave, you will.” He turned on his heel and walked towards the door of the café, knowing Gandalf followed from the soft chuckling behind him. Bilbo briefly entertained the thought of not holding the door for his friend and instead watching it close in his face.

He did no such thing.

By the time they had both sat down with their tea (and Bilbo a good pile of cinnamon cookies), Bilbo’s irritation had all but melted away. He cupped his hands around his mug, the warmth coming off of it a pleasant contrast to the brisk autumn air coming through the opened window. The smell of cinnamon coming off the still warm cookies reminded him of his childhood, his mother and father bustling around the kitchen laughing together as they baked. He slid further into the plush armchair with a contented sigh, feeling at peace.

Only to be interrupted by his phone buzzing in his pocket.

He jumped, startled out of his comfortable position. Heart beating embarrassingly fast for such a silly disturbance, Bilbo pulled the offending phone out of his pocket with a grumble. He murmured an apology to Gandalf, who only waved it off and pulled out his own phone, before turning his attention to his phone to see exactly who had interrupted his peaceful moment.

 

**410-709-6657     3:21**

**Bilbo? Do I have the right number?**

 

“Who _is_ this?” The words blurted out of his mouth before he could think about it. He didn’t know this person, but they clearly knew him.

Gandalf perked up across the table. “Who is who?”

Bilbo held up the phone so Gandalf could see the texts.

“This person named Thorin keeps texting me, though I certainly don’t remember meeting a Thorin, much less giving one my number.”

“Ah.”

Bilbo brought his phone back towards his chest, an eyebrow raising.

“Ah?”

Gandalf took a long sip of his tea, avoiding Bilbo’s eye before carefully and thoroughly clearing his throat.”

“Yes, well. If this Thorin is the one I’m thinking of, which it seems they must be, then they have your number because I gave it to them.”

“You gave it to them.”

“Yes.”

“And may I ask why you saw fit to give my number out to a random stranger.”

“They’re not a random stranger, as such—“

“They are most certainly a stranger to me.”

“Well actually, be that as it may, you are not a stranger to them.”

Bilbo sat back in his chair, staring blankly at the infuriating man sitting across from him. What the hell was Gandalf on about?

“What the hell are you on about, Gandalf?”

Gandalf, rather rudely, looked more interested in something on his phone.

“Gandalf!”

Before he could properly shout at Gandalf for ignoring his privacy and handing out his contact information to complete and perfect strangers, Gandalf stopped him by shoving his phone towards him.

Bilbo’s own face smiled awkwardly back up at him. He snatched the phone from Gandalf’s hands, ignoring the older man’s annoyed huff to scroll down.

His age. His location. His bloody astrological sign. Line upon line of details about him.

“Gandalf,” Bilbo said, softly, deadly calm. “Please explain what this is.”

“Ah, well you see, it’s Yavanna’s Bounty, I thought—“

“Yavanna’s Bounty! The dating site!”

“Yes—“

“And what in her good name are you doing with a profile _for me_ on this site. And where the hell did you get this picture of me? I don’t remember having it taken!” His own face looked up at him with tired eyes, a wan smile, and extremely untidy hair. When was the last time he even wore that sweater?

“Well you see, my boy, I thought you could use some companionship, and seeing as you weren’t looking for yourself—“

“Companionship!” His yell attracted some stares. He hunched his shoulders up around his ears, leaning toward Gandalf to speak in a hiss. “You don’t get to decide what I need or how I—“

“Bilbo Baggins!” Gandalf’s exclamation most definitely got about half the café looking their way. Bilbo winced and slid down in his seat. “Don’t you yell at me for looking out for you!” His face softened, as did his voice. “I only want what’s best for you. You’ve seemed very lonely lately.”

Bilbo sighed and slapped a hand to his forehead.

“Gandalf, I appreciate your concern, I _do_ , but this… this is absurd!” He gestured sharply at the terrible picture of him plastered across the screen. “Where did you even _get_ this picture of me? And what does,” Bilbo stopped to squint down at a line of text “ _’neat-handed and clever, but not shrewd_ ’ mean? Are people even sending messages in response to this calamity of a profile? And what—“

Bilbo cut himself off. The texts he’d been getting…

“Gandalf.” The older man winced at Bilbo’s sharp tone. “Don’t tell me this person, this _Thorin_ , was messaging you and—“

“They weren’t messaging _me_ , they were messaging _you_ —“

“—and you gave them my phone number!” Bilbo talked loudly over Gandalf’s excuses. This was completely unacceptable.

“They found your profile and were interested. So yes, they did message you, and yes, I did respond on your behalf. They sounded like a very nice person, so I thought I’d go ahead and put you two into better contact.”

Bilbo wanted to slap the smug look right off his old friend’s face.

“You had no right—“

“Bilbo, please.” Gandalf looked very tired. “Since your mother’s death, you’ve been very aloof and certainly you’ve been lonely. I thought I could do this to help you feel happier again.”

Bilbo felt himself deflate a little.

“You could have asked me first.”

“I could have, but I didn’t want to add more stress to your life.”

Bilbo scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed up to the ceiling.

“Gandalf, I can see where you were coming from, but this is still messed up. How am I supposed to even talk to this Thorin now? Tell them an old friend made this profile for me and that everything we supposedly talked about before now was them speaking to you?” Bilbo gave Gandalf a shrewd look. “Who’s to say they’re not interesting in dating you now after speaking to you for Yavanna knows how long.”

Gandalf leaned back in his seat, his loud, amused laugh making Bilbo feel fondness creeping up instead of the anger and frustration he wanted to feel.

“Bilbo, I am certain that’s not the case. Just as I’m certain that you’ll figure out how to make this work.” Gandalf shot a significant look down at Bilbo’s phone where the texts from Thorin were still open before standing up. “Now, I must be going. It was very good meeting with you today, Bilbo. Do keep in touch.”

Just like that, Gandalf swept away from the table, leaving Bilbo gaping after him like a fish.

After a few moments of utter confusion, Bilbo let out something between an exasperated sigh and a hysterical laugh. Looking down at his phone, he thought of how to best salvage this situation. Surely there was no harm in texting Thorin and explaining what happened. Worst case scenario, he’d never hear back from a stranger. Best case…

Bilbo grabbed a cookie and took a thoughtful bite. Well, he knew this person was interested in him. Or at least how Gandalf represented him. And Gandalf wasn’t wrong, he had been quite lonely these past few months…

Best case scenario, this person could end up being pleasant and worth a date or two.

He picked up his phone and began to tap out a response.

 

\---------- 

 

Bilbo stood nervously outside of the agreed restaurant. The comforting smells wafting from inside his favorite restaurant did nothing to soothe his anxiety.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” He murmured to his phone as he watched the clock tick from 6:12 to 6:13.

Thorin was late. If they were going to show up at all.

Really, Bilbo should have seen this coming. How could he seriously have expected someone to want to meet him after the debacle that was his explanation of what Gandalf had done. He certainly would have been skeptical if he were on the receiving end of that mess.

He tucked his phone back into the pocket of his waistcoat before smoothing it down for the fifth time in as many minutes. It was no use watching the clock. Either Thorin would show up, or they wouldn’t. And in any case, he could go in and enjoy a very fine dinner by himself.

… Though it would be sad to claim his reservation for two and have to explain it was now just for one.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the tall figure nearly walk past him before double-taking. Bilbo startled rather violently as his name being called interrupted him from his self-pity party.

“Bilbo?”

Bilbo turned and gaped up at the person standing by him. He had never seen a picture of Thorin. He hadn’t even thought of how he would identify them for their date. Good thing Thorin had seen a picture of him, to know what he looked like.

At the thought of that hideous picture, he felt his ears heat up. Already embarrassed, he stuck out his hand and stammered a reply.

“Y-yes, Bilbo. That’s me. Bilbo Baggins.”

A warm hand, larger than his own, fully engulfed his.

“Thorin Durin. Sorry I’m late—I got lost.”

Sweet Yavanna, Thorin had gorgeous blue eyes. And thick, soft-looking dark hair that curled past their shoulders. And such broad shoulders…

Bilbo had never thought himself bad looking by any stretch, but damn if Thorin wasn’t in a different league entirely. He felt Thorin’s eyes on him, expecting some sort of response besides his staring.

Staring. He was staring! At this person he had just met! Like a creep!

“I’m sorry, I just—I hadn’t any idea of what you looked like.”

He would have paid anything to sink down into the sidewalk at that moment. Thorin raised an eyebrow in response.

“And?”

Bilbo’s mind went blank and his mouth moved of its own accord.

“And you look fantastic!” His heart stopped. Did he just say that? “I mean, of course you don’t need me to tell you that. Undoubtedly you own a mirror.”

He cut himself off before he shoved his foot even further into his mouth. Chancing a look at Thorin’s face, he breathed a small internal sigh of relief as he watched their face soften and their mouth twitch up at the corner.

Maybe he hadn’t totally cocked everything up.

“Do—do you want to go inside?” He sheepishly gestured at the restaurant with a shrug of his shoulder.

“That sounds good to me.” Thorin’s voice was tinged with amusement. Good. Amusement Bilbo could work with. That was probably the best he could have hoped for after his stuttering mess of a first impression.

“I hope you like Italian,” Bilbo said as he reached for the door. “You said to surprise you, and while this is maybe a safe bet, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like pasta.”

“True. Agreeing to go on a date with someone who almost turned out to be a 70 year old man is enough risk for one night.”

Bilbo paused with his hand on the door handle, heart racing again. He knew this wouldn’t turn out well, it was too weird. Damn Gandalf for meddling. He opened his mouth, still not sure what he was going to say, when he turned and was stopped in his tracks.

Thorin looked at him fondly, their eyes crinkled in the corners from mirth and their mouth curved in a small smile, as if trying desperately to hold back a laugh.

Bilbo had less restraint.

The laugh felt almost punched out of him, hysteria and relief in equal measure. He looked up into Thorin’s handsome face, feeling disbelief at his luck and, somehow, gratitude for Gandalf and his inability to stay out of people’s business.

“Yes, quite enough risk for a night.” Bilbo pulled open the door and gestured Thorin through ahead of him. “Would you believe me if I said that even stranger things have happened because of Gandalf?” His heart skipped as Thorin looked back at him with the same small smile that crinkled at the corners of their eyes.

“I could be convinced.”

Bilbo followed Thorin into the restaurant proper, feeling hopeful about the outcome of this strange date and making a mental note to send Gandalf some of his favorite cheese scones as soon as he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Um. So this happened. And PSA: please never do what Gandalf has done. Please.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @[bisexualthorin](http://bisexualthorin.tumblr.com)


End file.
